I am tired of this life, now. I have no opposable thumbs. I am miserable. Sometimes, when you watch television, I try to watch, too. But I do not understand English, so the result is confusing and painful. I try to amuse myself with small animals and the like. I am bored. You lopped my gonads off, so they entire point of my existence (i.e. the propagation of my species) has been nullified and erased. You are a bastard.
Confessions: I sleep on your new couch while you are away, or preoccupied. I shat on the floor last week, and I am not sorry for it. That's what you get for leaving my in my kennel until eleven o' clock. Bitch.
I cannot use a knife or a gun, as I cannot hold them. My body structure does not allow me to hang myself succesfully, because my skull and spine are not aligned in the proper and necessary pattern. I cannot reach the glass cleaner or the Jet-Dry. Thus, I shall starve myself.
Sincerely and unapologetically,
Doc Hollywood Redfearn
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